


Leave the World to Darkness

by msdisdain



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, I was young, crazy depressing, honestly melodramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdisdain/pseuds/msdisdain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the world drops out from under you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave the World to Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Written a long, long time ago, under another name.

The walls mock me now. The walls. The eyes of the crew. The bundle on my nightstand.

The empty chair.

The chair seems to follow me. It's there on the opposite side of my desk, and at our table in the mess hall. Its presence seems to be strongest, of course, on the bridge. The chair sits unoccupied; the smile that once rested there is gone. No one will ever sit there again.

_Gone._

The wave of panic surges and I fight it back before it crests. Before I give myself up to the tide and drown. It is a battle I am certain to fight for the rest of my life. It would be so easy to give up, to lose control. But why start now? If I stop to think too long, I realize that it was actually my downfall. Control. So I don't stop to think.

At night, I become a person I don't know, a person I might have become if I had ever given her a chance to breathe. At night I let the doors of my quarters close behind me, and I leave the world to darkness. I embrace the memories like a mother, a sister, a friend. The lover I never was. The wife I might have become. I bury my face in the sheets I took off his bed, I listen to the personal logs I have been authorized to open. One message, with my name on it, I do not play. And I do not sleep. Perhaps my body slumbers, but I--we--are awake in my dreams.

When I return to awareness, sweating, in the middle of the night, the panic is there. The panic that comes from continuing a journey alone that was meant to be shared. I reach for him, but my hands clutch empty air. Sometimes I can return to dreaming. On others, sleep is futile, and I get out of bed and dress. On these nights, when I am driven by sorrow I cannot loose, I roam my ship. Our ship.

Inevitably on these nights I find B'Elanna prowling the corridors, the scowl on her face designed to keep most of the crew at bay. Not me, though. At first I wondered why we would wake on the same nights, be driven into the bowels of the ship at the same time. The eventual thought that his spirit was here, with both of us, bringing us together for comfort, was almost intolerable. The first few times we ignored each other, but nearly two weeks after what I could only think of as "the incident", she had turned around, chased after me. Invited me to the mess hall for coffee. For the first hour, we talked ship's business, but the conversation had a destined end.

The first mention of his name nearly had me fleeing, but B'Elanna reached out, and held on. Now our frequent late night meetings have become a comfort, albeit a small one. Life goes on.

This is not the living I had once imagined.

The ship continues its course back to Earth. To Earth. Not to home. Home is a tiny planet three systems back where he rests. I stood over the site and spoke words of loss and tragedy while my spirit leapt into the grave with him. Somewhere, I like to think, we are together as we should have been.

I know I cannot function this way much longer. Tuvok has tried to speak to me about it but the words will not fully form. I shake my head wordlessly at him and retreat to the quarters that will never be mine to wrap myself in his woven blanket and sit before the viewport staring out at the stars. I imagine his arms around me and his chin in my hair. Imagine, not remember. It never happened.

It will never happen.

When the horror rises in my throat like bile I am prepared for it, doubling over with my hands across my stomach and my eyes screwed tightly shut, cursing myself for the years I wasted and for the years that would never be. I had promised myself that when the mission was completed we would be together; that I would come to him freely with my heart full of him as it had always been. Now, the time for that had passed. I would return to Earth with a chair beside me that no one could fill. I would defend our people with every breath in me--to honour his memory, to fulfill an unspoken promise. And then I would disappear, to spend my life in regret.

I have spoken these thoughts to B'Elanna and she has done her duty as friend, as subordinate, as confidant. I listen to her words but know I will never follow them. He made promises to me and they will never be fulfilled now.

Some nights, I curse him for it.

Others, I damn myself.

I can talk about him to the others. Sit in Sandrine's, in the mess, on the bridge and laugh when someone recalls one of his stories, or smile and nod when someone talks of his bravery, his loyalty. And it helps, a little. With the exception of Tuvok and B'Elanna, they think my life has moved forward.

The ship is moving forward, but I am standing still. There is a time, seven weeks, three days, two hours before where I will live. Where we will live together, for the last time.

I am a Starfleet Captain. I know my duty, and will perform it to the best of my ability. I will bring our people back to their families.

But I will not live.

Not alone.

He would be angry, B'Elanna tells me. I don't think so. I think if it had been me, his actions would be the same. He would roam through my quarters at night, sleep with my nightgown under his pillow. Perform his job during the days and come home to me at night, the only way he would ever be able to. The unspoken love would endure.

I close my eyes, and drift into sleep. He holds out his hand to me, and together we smile.


End file.
